The cafeteria, in the dining area exclusive to C-rank contracts.
Qin Feng and Shi Potian sat across from each other, silently eating their C-rank Energy Meals.
"The second-years are really strong."
Ultimately, it was Shi Potian who broke the silence.
Qin Feng nodded and swallowed his food. "They’ve completely adapted to the system here. We newcomers can’t hope to catch up in a short time to over a year of their high-intensity, rigorous training."
"After all, no one who gets into Qiming First High School is an idiot."
"I saw some second-years who’ve fought nearly ten thousand matches in the Imperial Arena, and that’s while they’re also fighting private matches. In terms of sheer effort... Haha."
Shi Potian chuckled. "Hard work is the bare minimum. No one gets this far without it."
They both saw the same sentiment reflected in each other’s eyes.
It was a sense of powerlessness, of being utterly crushed, followed by an even more blazing fighting spirit.
’Our efforts are nowhere near enough.’
’We have to work harder!’
’We have to put in ten, even a hundred times more effort than them, just to have a chance to catch up, let alone surpass them!’
After dinner, the two didn’t return to their dorms. Instead, they walked back into the public Martial Arts Dojo in the Class A Area.
Qin Feng immediately resumed his training in the Intermediate Imperial Body Refining Method.
He channeled all the pressure from the dozens of crushing defeats that afternoon into the drive to punish his body.
Sweat soaked his training uniform, but the soreness and tearing sensation in his muscles filled him with a grounded sense of satisfaction.
He didn’t drag his exhausted body back to his dorm until 8:30 PM.
After practicing the Emperor Meditation Method for half an hour, Qin Feng fell into a deep sleep, his body and spirit craving profound rest.
...
「At the same time.」
On the rooftop of the Principal’s Office Building at Qiming First Martial Arts High School.
The night wind was crisp and cool, blowing against a woman in a female instructor’s uniform.
She was tall and slender with beautiful features. Her practical, short hair stirred gently in the wind, but her eyes were as calm and clear as an autumn lake.
She leaned against the rooftop railing, gazing down at the brightly lit campus below.
She was Lin Yue, Qin Feng’s new homeroom teacher and the advisor for Second Year, Class Seven.
Beside her, space warped slightly as a holographic projection composed of data streams silently took form.
It was the perpetually stern face of Wu Shangfeng.
"Instructor Wu. To what do I owe the pleasure of this late-night visit?"
Lin Yue didn’t turn around. Her voice was crisp and pleasant, yet it carried a hint of detachment.
"I’ve sent you a fine prospect."
Wu Shangfeng got straight to the point, his voice as emotionless as his expression. "Qin Feng. You should have already seen his file."
"Of course."
Lin Yue nodded. "Two months after enrolling, he jumped from a rank of over sixty thousand on the entrance exams to first in his year. During a practical combat class, he had an epiphany mid-battle and slew Nagash Followers. In the cafeteria, he taught Tie Lin a lesson with a single staff, earning his respect. His record certainly earns him the title of ’genius.’"
"Since you know he’s a genius, you should also know why I’m here."
Wu Shangfeng said, "Increase the intensity. Give him more solo combat missions. Prioritize the high-difficulty ones. Don’t let him waste his time."
Lin Yue’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
"Instructor Wu, I deeply respect that you nurtured a student like Qin Feng. However, his training plan is now my responsibility."
She turned to face Wu Shangfeng’s projection, her tone calm but firm. "I believe what he needs now is to build a solid foundation, to consolidate his gains."
"Consolidate?"
Wu Shangfeng’s voice grew heavy. "For mediocrities, that’s called consolidation. For a genius, it’s a waste of time. Lin Yue, do you have any idea how much a top genius can improve in a single year?"
He held up one finger. "One year. Give him one year, and he can win the ’Qiming General Star.’"
The Qiming General Star!
This was the highest honor for all Martial Arts High School students on Planet Qiming, representing the undisputed strongest of their generation.
Every student who had ever won this title was a legendary Demon of unparalleled talent.
Furthermore, once a student earned the "Qiming General Star" title, the homeroom teachers who had taught them in their first, second, and third years would all receive handsome rewards from the Imperial Ministry of Education and the Military Department.
And the less time the student took to achieve it, the more staggering the rewards.
"One year?"
Lin Yue shook her head. "Instructor Wu, I admit he’s outstanding. But in one year? Absolutely impossible. As far as I know, the historical record for winning the ’Qiming General Star’ is two years and three months, which was during the student’s third school-wide tournament. Qin Feng is a genius, true, with an astonishing aptitude for killing techniques. It’s been three months since he enrolled; it shouldn’t be hard for him to win the Qiming General Star in the tournament two years from now. But to win it next year is virtually impossible. Besides... are you in such a hurry for his sake, or for the official rewards that double for achieving it in record time?"
Her words now carried an accusatory edge.
"You’re trying to force his growth! You’ll ruin him!"
"A woman’s shortsightedness!"
Wu Shangfeng’s voice turned cold. "A genius must be trained like a genius! Only on the brink of life and death, tempered by blood and fire, can he grow at the fastest possible rate! Two years? By the time two years have passed, the opportunity will be lost! That would be the greatest possible waste of his talent!"
The two were diametrically opposed. One advocated for steady, foundational growth, while the other pushed for extreme pressure.
For a moment, the atmosphere was fraught with tension.
However, both of them were arguing for what they believed was best for Qin Feng.
"Our philosophies differ. There’s no point in arguing further."
Lin Yue took a deep breath to calm herself. "Let’s let the data decide."
"The data?"
Wu Shangfeng retorted, "What data? His results from the freshman tournament? I guarantee he’ll place in the top three. What’s the point of looking at data like that?"
His confidence practically overflowed from the hologram.
Lin Yue fell silent.
She knew Wu Shangfeng was right.
With the strength Qin Feng had displayed, he truly had few rivals among the freshmen.
"Then let’s look at it another way."
Wu Shangfeng’s mind worked incredibly fast. "We won’t look at his ceiling; we’ll look at his floor. Let’s see how long it takes him to find his footing in the second-years’ private matches."
He pulled up a data file and projected it between them.
"Right now, there are 13,321 second-year students. We’ll use rank 10,000 as our benchmark. How long do you think it will take him to break into the top ten thousand on the leaderboard?"
Lin Yue’s eyes lit up at the proposal.
It was indeed an excellent metric.
It would test his ability to make continuous, stable progress and to adapt.
"Fine."
Lin Yue nodded, then stated her terms. "I’ll give him three months. If he can break into the top ten thousand within that time, I’ll acknowledge your ’extreme pressure’ theory. I’ll prioritize increasing his load for future combat missions."
She paused, her tone becoming exceptionally serious.
"But if he fails to do so after three months, then you, Instructor Wu, must admit that your methods are too radical. From then on, Qin Feng’s training plan must proceed entirely at my pace. We’ll slow his rate of advancement and solidify the foundation for each stage. Steady and stable is the way to improve his strength. You must understand, simply winning the Qiming General Star is an incredible achievement. Why must you insist on him doing it in one year?"
"It’s a deal."
Wu Shangfeng agreed without the slightest hesitation.
The moment he finished speaking, his holographic projection dissolved into countless specks of light and vanished into the night wind.
Only Lin Yue remained on the rooftop.
She stood there quietly, pulling up Qin Feng’s private match data. Staring at his afternoon record of 3 wins and 40 losses, she was lost in thought for a long time.